Mad dogs and Englishmen

Dargaville to Pouto Point
73.3km (including 4.2km round trip back to the tiny church from Aratapu Tavern) **
We made it to Pouto Point at 3:35 PM, to find 13 other bikes here ahead of us, only 5 of whom had passed us on the road. The boat's due at 7 so we're just chilling and catching up with various other cyclists. Some of them we 'know' from the TA FB page and know we're the ringleaders. There are apparently 26 of us travelling to tonight; you'd think the operator might at least offer us a discount. Marg is busy organising a coffee visit next year with a rider who lives on the A2O route...
But I'm jumping ahead... The forecast for hot sun and building Sou'westerlies had us planning to leave by 7AM, but the logistics of prepping breakfast, lunch & dinner for the day (toasted bagels with smoked salmon & cream cheese, and ham & salad ciabatta rolls, since you ask) defeated that plan, and it was 7:15 before we recovered our bikes from the safety of the dining room (!) and headed out, ensuring the hotel door was locked behind us. Pay attention, that last detail is important!
As planned, we left Dargaville in the cool of the morning, following the route to Pouto Road and started the 70+ kilometres to Pouto Point, noting that it felt like we had a tailwind. 4km down the road, I discovered it was indeed a tailwind, as it was a headwind on the way back toward the hotel. Despite us both remarking while packing up that our drink bottles were still in the fridge, neither of us picked them up and so that was where they still were... Unfortunately that's also where they stayed as we couldn't raise the staff by phone, nor the one other guest by banging on the door. So FourSquare came good with a couple of sports drinks and 8.8km and 35 minutes later I was back with Marg, clicking on my panniers and preparing to continue the journey. En route back I'd seen several other bikepackers picking up supplies at the last dairy out of town, and the first of these arrived on scene. This was the only person who had committed to join us on the charter and had paid and been refunded his money. A 'brief' chat ensued, so when we finally continued our progress it was pushing 9AM. So much for the early start...
The ride was wonderful, cruising along the flat straight road at 20ish kph, waving cheerfully to the few passing motorists. Until we got to the Aratapu Tavern. This rang a bell with the navigator in chief as the next waymark AFTER the smallest church. A brief debate and back we turned, both this time, for a worthwhile 2.1km ride in the wrong direction. While only built in 2010 it (and the meandering, eccentric garden route to it) is a magical place, with a swamp Kauri structure and furnishings, and two striking, modern stained glass windows. We were about to enter the 'Walk in the Garden' when another bikepacker came along and was flagged down to join us in our exploration. Marg took the opportunity to have a brief sit down before leaving!
As we continued easily on the arrow straight road through lush pasture freckled generously with newly packed baleage, I initially decided today's blog would be titled 'I was dreaming as I rode the long straight road ahead (uh huh)'. But then I looked at the time and the weather... We also passed the only kumara farm I ever recall seeing. Taking one of our regular 5km butt breaks, in the shade of a spreading macrocarpa, we were joined by Rob, someone I'd communicated with via the TA FB page. Another extended break discussing route so far, plans ahead, life the universe & everything (except religion and politics, of course) ensued. This was to be the pattern of the day, leisurely rest stops interspersed with a bit of cycling. One huge upside to this was that we seemed to always be stopped when any trucks heading our way passed! A loaded log truck has the aerodynamics of a brick, leaving us reeling in their turbulent wake as they roared back toward town.
Pouto Road is far from flat - we logged 1118m of climbing - with some quite gruelling uphills and exhilarating descents, occasionally to a one lane bridge where you hoped to hell there would not be a vehicle coming to rob your momentum. Talking of which, today I entertained myself by seeing just how far I could go without pedalling; my best effort was to breast the next rise at 4kph, before picking up speed again. These shenanigans stopped when I was firmly castigated for adding to our time in the saddle. The bum is obviously still tender!
As ever the scenery is stunning. Rolling hills, paddock flats, primarily cattle country though we smelt rather than saw evidence of stock. A leisurely lunch was taken in a shady pine plantation, lolling in the grass, backs against fence posts, almost dozing off. The only slight concern was the ominous creaking and groaning and cracking noises emanating from the surrounding woodland (a little further down the road was a sign 'Danger No Entry, fire damaged trees'. Gulp...). Rob cycled past at this point: later he apologised for not turning back to capture the scene for posterity. While lunching a convoy of utes towing trailers loaded with many quad-bikes, packed 7seaters, trailed by an empty log truck thundered past. Glad we weren't riding the winding, undulating, forested road at that moment. The sting in the tail was the final 10km or so, winding and quite steeply undulating on very corrugated, very loose gravel. I particularly admire the riders of bikes with no suspension, it must jar their wrists as well as pound their butts. One of their number did say that the faster you go the easier it is, a philosophy I subscribe to but have yet to persuade Marg!
At Pouto Point we met various riders who had accelerated or delayed their journey in order to make the boat, including Tony & Wendy who had spent 3 days relaxing, sleeping in a bunk-room in the community-run Marine Hall, swimming, and getting to know the locals. An unexpected bonus was a wee kiosk selling coffees, cold drinks, and most importantly, ice creams!

A briefing from 'Nan' - at least, that's what the young boy running the kiosk called her - had us all down on the beach, bikes stripped of all baggage, at 6:45 to watch Terry expertly nose Kewpie Too into the beach and lower the gangplank. I headed up to the top deck, where I was assigned the task of stacking bikes, while two others hoiked them over the rail from the hands of the two below lifting them high above their heads. Each time an ebike was grunted up, most with battery still in place (not ours, of course) Terry would shout 'cheater' as a warning!
The cruise back across the harbour was circuitous as Terry expertly navigated his way around the many sandbanks, dealing patiently with the idiot (me) leaning in the wheelhouse door asking inane questions. The sun set behind the Murewai peninsula without much of a show, before the full moon rose spectacularly on the other side. There had been rumours of free hotdogs on the boat; when I partook of one I was asked for $5. I suggested mine should be free as it was us who were responsible for about $1500 of revenue. The reply was that I should be charged double for curtailing their holiday! Terry, Gaye & their two grandkids were sleeping on board for a 4AM start next day to a regatta...
We landed at Parekai Wharf at about 10:15, unloading being a similar process to loading, with the exception that the boat was moored to a floating pontoon, and the narrow gangway prevented any 'runner' passing a bike being wheeled up. You had to time your dash back to the pontoon to pick up another bike... That said, it was interesting to note who had some community spirit, and who just took their own bike and never came back for another. When we cycled off in the dark, past sleeping Parekai toward Helensville, we realised we could not read any house numbers. Coincidentally, when we finally stopped to confer with Google maps, we were right outside our (luxurious) b&b. And so to bed.
(** Plus an extra 8.8km just for me!)
https://www.relive.cc/view/vQvyZ2W8w4O
https://www.relive.cc/view/vXOnnKg8n5O

Comments

  1. Big day - well done both of you !

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    Replies
    1. Thanks. Was a lovely day, plenty of time and great scenery.

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